Inside and outside, we've been tackling tasks, and chores, like repairing the farm fence, and thinning the bamboo. Bambi and Alex did a lot of sorting and reconfiguring the room we call The Lab. It looks great in there. Some day I hope William will approve me sharing pictures of his bedroom. He has transformed it, with paint, architectural details, and rearranging everything. It feels like a destination, in our own home, and going in is like visiting a museum exhibition, or the set of a very compelling drama. He has curated a fine assortment of extraordinary things.
I keep staring at our calendar. Probably too much. At least I alternate, and go from staring at the calendar to staring at the map. I love reading maps, the paper ones. Lately I am appreciating that the online kind of maps are kind of spectacular, too. I keep finding obsucre spaces, sources, links, brilliant details that lead to fascinating articles, and books I mentally jot down... Oh, I should read that. I am making plans, and also living in a limbo. More like standing in the doorway, where I want to leave the room I have been haunting for 18 months, but the next room feels a little too wide open, inviting, and compelling, to be sure, but the crowds and bright lights, the chance that I won't find room to stand, makes me hesitant.
There are a few things on the calendar, which I find comforting and not. I really want to make plans. I want to have a party for apple picking, movie nights, a maker gathering. I want to go to the Zoo, and kayak, and stargaze. But the transition, the uncertainty of what or how to resume that Normal is not so easy. I always regret not making plans, like when it's mid-August, and we've spent endless days not doing much, and resenting the crowds, because we didn't make our own reservations, take our own adventures. But I am having such a hard time launching, initiating even basic things. This week, for instance, is half over and we haven't done any of the things I kept anticipating. I am pretty sure the good van needs to see the mechanic, which is a real stinko, because that will probably be something that will eat up the last half of the free week. Am I whining? Sorry.
One big thing on the calendar: I am driving to Oregon. It's a fact, that I am stating to reinforce my committment to both a compelling and an overwhelming plan. I will have the company of William and Maria. We will be in a rental vehicle. I've made every single reservation for accomodations, and located every reliable public restroom between here and there, with exits and open hours. I have researched the make and model of three categories of rental vehicles and changed my choices
Right now, I am going to clean off our picnic table. Later, I am going to roast some tomatoes. And much later, I will be driving, one day at a time, North, and it will all be fine, lovely in fact, and when I drive home I will be full of new stories, inspiration, and confidence.
Can you hear my soothing tone, my inner-wisdom voice? I am channeling all that, and aiming for philosophical and chill. Lotus position. Chamomile tea. A compilation of every therapy affirmation and mind-wellness saying is raining down on my head, like word pot-pourri... it's well intentioned, and practically useless. Should I count sheep? No? Logging off, now.
I am so happy for you, that you are bravely planning a trip! I can imagine how scary it is. Sometimes when I am on the highway it dawns on me that half the drivers probably didn't get enough sleep for weeks, or are on drugs, or had a fight with a significant other just before getting on the road. Then I am astounded that we ever manage to go anywhere without crashing. I say this in all seriousness, it has to be that angels are thickly positioned over the roadways and our cars.
I have loved the road trips I've taken since my husband died, but I haven't done any extended ones in three years. Will I ever drive around the Southwest for three weeks, visiting friends and family and stopping in between at Airbnb's *all by myself*? I have a few different excursions outlined in my mind, but most of the time they appear pretty fantastical. Maybe next year...
I had never heard of Scout Books but I just looked them up and WOW! They seem like something I could enjoy and get hooked on. Thanks for the tip. I'm not sure yet just how they work but I will keep researching. <3
Oregon!!! I'm so excited for you!!! <3 This is going to be sooo very good. And with the best company - the oldest and the youngest, something poetic about that. :)
It does feel like it falls in the category of "brave." And I am still on the verge of cancelling my plans... about every twelve hours I panic and question everything, then sleep, and resolve to have courage, and plan further, which is almost absurd, because it's all very very planned... except we can't plan for those sleepy, inebriated, distracted drivers, can we? *sigh*
Oh! I love the road trips in my mind, outlining them, seeing the stops and possibilities almost as clearly as if they are memories. You traveled 3 weeks, alone? Brave you! I am glad William and Maria don't mind me recruiting them, because I will love their company. But, maybe I should muster further courage and try a solo venture! Keep planning, and I think that one of your imaginings will be too good, too fantastical, to resist, and you will make a real excursion of it! I will cheer for you, and happily, virtually, follow along.
I was fortunate to receive some Scout Books as a gift, then found more at a second hand shop. Sometimes I will find them in gift shops, book stores. As we venture back out into the world, I think you will suddenly come upon some! I like that they are small and travel easily, and then I don't feel like I have a massive journal to fill. I can jot down notes, record facts, like an address, or confirmation number, or save some stickers. I like to keep one with me when I travel, along with a fine point pen and a little spool of washi tape.
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